


Personal Assistant

by misslynn_99



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Annoying, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Funny, Humor, POV Second Person, Reader Insert, Romance, Sarcasm, Self Insert, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Humor, Song Lyrics, Who am I kidding? REALLY cliche, slightly cliche, snarky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslynn_99/pseuds/misslynn_99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Tony stared at Fury in disbelief. "She's our assistant? But she's annoying!" Fury shook his head. "She's the daughter of my favorite cousin; she's practically my niece. She's been begging for a job at S.H.E.I.L.D. since she was sixteen, and just made it through training. This is where she'll be the least of a hindrance.' </p>
<p>You( the reader) have finally gotten the job you've been dreaming of: personal assistant to the avengers. While doing your tasks, you take every opportunity to harass your employers. Flirtiness and hilarity ensues, with eventual Steve/Reader, although hints of other avenger/reader pairings included. Possible smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Hello lovely readers! This is my first story on here in a while, but after reading so much avengers fanfiction I just couldn't keep this plot bunny away.**

The hiss of pressurized air startled you as the elevator doors slid open. You hesitantly stepped inside. A couple of minutes had turned into an hour of waiting in the lobby while you awaited the arrival of Fury. Eventually, he had just messaged you to go on ahead to the top floor. 

The bottom of your stomach dropped, and the familiar tickle of nerves fluttered in your abdomen. Absentmindedly, you toyed with the heart charm on your bracelet. 

Glancing out the window, you drank in the view. A glass cut out served as a barrier for the elevator. Twilight had fallen, casting a fiery glow as the sun dipped below the horizon. The faint twinkling of a few stubborn stars could be distinguished amongst the blur of harsh city lights. Stark Tower was definitely a piece of art. 

_I can't believe I get to live here and work with them._ A grin split your face and you hummed with excitement at the thought. 

All too soon, a faint ding signaled that you had reached the top floor. Despite having little fear if heights, a final glimpse of the altitude dizzied you. 

"Welcome." A robotic, male voice chimed as the doors opened. You assumed it must have been Jarvis, Tony's AI. 

The spacious living area presented to you was one of the most luxerious things you'd ever seen- or probably ever would. A delicately sculpted wrought-iron, glass topped table was placed in front of a jet black leather sectional couch. Two matching recliners were clustered around a monolithic TV. Soft, fluffy white carpet covered most of the floor, excluding the rich dark wood by the bar area. Another massive window gave a picture perfect view of the big apple, complimented by a large balcony. 

"Sir, your guest has arrived." The disembodied voice spoke again, confirming your assumption. 

"About time." A deep voice grumbled. Frantically, you smoothed your clothes and tucked a hair behind your ear. 

Tony Stark rounded the corner, and your inner fangirl made an embarrassing appearance. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark, it is such an honor to work with you-" you yipped before he cut you off. 

"Yeah, yeah, kid; save it for later. You look awfully young. How old are you anyways?" 

"Twenty-one, as of last week." You smile brightly. 

"What can you do?" He continued his interrogation. 

"Just some small stuff. I've got some basic hacking skills, the mandatory hand-to-hand combat skills required to be an agent, and I'm pretty good with a pistol, if I say do myself." You replied smugly, satisfied with your list of credentials. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a door marked "laboratory." 

Lunging forward , you squealed "Is that your lab? I wanna see!" 

A heavy hand caught your shoulder and hauled you backwards. "You're no fun." You pouted, turning to Nick Fury. 

"It is best not to disturb Dr. Banner while he is working." The older man advised. 

Your eyes widened to the point of saucers. "Dr. Banner?" You peered anxiously at the door. 

"Fury, could I talk to you a moment on private? " The billionaire choked out between gritted teeth. 

Nick simply raised an eyebrow and replied. "Hey y/n, why don't you watch some TV for a bit?"

"Okay!" You agreed. 

After you left, Tony stared at Fury in disbelief. "She's our assistant? But she's annoying!"

Fury shook his head. "She's the daughter of my favorite cousin; she's practically my niece. She's been begging for a job at S.H.E.I.L.D. since she was sixteen, and just made it through training. This is where she'll be the least of a hindrance. " 

Tony glared at the director. "At the very worst, she might get in your way a little or irritate you, but she'll help take care of simple, mundane tasks around the tower and for the team. Can't you handle that?" 

And so, the first day of your dream job began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my gorgeous readers! I have recently remembered why I hate typing stories on here. Archive hates it when I try to use it on my mobile, and I've been typing on my iPad. Because of this, I have had to restart typing over seven times, (almost always when I was almost done), because Archive decides to reload itself and I would lose all of my work. You can't even copy and past from another typing website, because then, you have to go back through and reformat it all. I'm glad this chapter is done with. Maybe next time I'll type from my computer, because most of my family will be gone at work, and I'll be home since school's out. I would also like to put a mild disclaimer. I know most of you wouldn't act like this around them, but I'm adding a touch of drama and a double dose of humor, so prepare accordingly. Well, enjoy the chapter! :)

Fury left shortly after Tony's reluctant acceptance. You idly flipped through channels, astounded at the thousands to choose from. After a good fifteen minutes of searching, you uncovered a page entitled 'Tony's favorites.' Most people would have been deterred by the password lock, but you made quick work of it. Those classes on hacking software really did pay off in the end. It was surprisingly easy, given what the billionaire was trying to hide.

"Oh Tony!" You warbled. "Have you been watching _naughty_ things?" You smirked viciously, delighted at your discovery.

"Wha- Hey! You aren't authorized to mess around with my favorites!" The genius protested, abandoning his drink at the bar.

Cackling, you pressed play on the first video, clutched the remote to your chest, and bolted for the door.

"Get back here!" He yelled while pursuing you. "Jarvis! Lock all the doors on this floor." Tony's command was too late; you had just slipped into the laboratory.

The first thing you noticed was a ruffled man, crouched protectively over whatever he was working on. His mousy brown, slightly curly hair was a mess atop his head. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose, and his irises gleamed emerald before returning to a sunlight-passing-through-whiskey brown.

"What's up?" You asked with forced nonchalance. "My name is y/n. I assume you must be Dr. Bruce Banner?"

"That would be correct." Bruce tentatively smiled, although his eyes still flashed with annoyance. "If I may ask, what are you doing here?"

"I've been officially hired as the team's personal assistant." You replied absentmindedly as you mentally scanned the room. The countertops were pristine white, while the matching floor tiles were mottled with dirt and dust. Various scopes and bulky machines dotted the room, almost none of which you could identify.

_I'll have to find out about those later_. You noted. A good agent always strives to be aware of their environment.

Several loud raps on the door disturbed you from your thoughts. "Y/N! I'm going to count to three, and you're going to give me that remote. One, two, three! Jarvis, unlock the door." Tony howled as ridiculous moans and whimpers played in the background.

Giggling, you whispered to the doctor, "I'm sorry; I just couldn't resist. "

The door was thrown open with a loud bang, and Tony wrapped his arm around your waist before hauling you out backwards into the main living area.

"Why on earth would you do that?" He huffed.

"To get a reaction." You snickered. It was hysterical to see the usually smooth and suave hero red-faced and flustered with anger.

"Don't you think that was rather immature?" Tony tried to sound like a firm and reprimanding adult, but he still sounded like a pouty child to you.

"I'm not the one who put porn on my favorites." You teased in a sing-song voice. "Besides, I could be a lot more immature. I could shove the remote in my bra." You threatened playfully, and added as an after thought, "Or down my pants."

"That isn't anything I haven't touched on a woman before, sweet-cheeks. It wouldn't bother me in the slightest." he responded cooly.

His horror was near tangible when you tugged on the waistband of your pants and slid the remote downwards.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He gasped, and pried the remote from your fingers. "What I watch is none of your business anyways. I suppose I better give you a brief tour, anything to keep you out of trouble." The billionaire grumbled.

Mockingly, you put your hand to your forehead in salute. "Yes, sir!"

"Come on kid, follow me." You happily trailed behind him. "The next six lower levels are where the other avengers reside. This is the main floor where everyone just hangs out. Below this one is mine. Then, it's Cap's, Thor's, Nat's, Clint's, and Bruce's. You can pick any unoccupied floor you want."

A brilliant idea occurred to you. "If this is the main floor, and I'm here to help everyone, shouldn't I live on this floor? I mean, there is a bedroom on this floor, right?"

"There are several, and I suppose." He replied wearily. "Just don't plan on having any privacy or quiet, peaceful time."

"That's cool." _Score_! You thought. _I wonder if he'll let me do any redecorating?_

"Alright, the kitchen is over here." He towed you along. The kitchen, like everything else about the skyscraper, was huge. The granite countertops and stainless steel appliances were buried in junk. Empty Poptart boxes and wrappers littered the counters. A horde of dirty dishes was piled in the oversized sink. Hesitantly, you checked in side the cabinets and fridge. The cabinets were covered in crumbs, and various, empty juice and milk containers were pointlessly still in the fridge.

"What happened here?" You exclaimed, obviously appalled.

"Late lunch." Tony replied simply, as if it was as a proper explanation.

"And why hasn't it been cleaned up yet?" You demanded. Three years of field training and a bit of natural OCD had led you to become a neat freak.

"We haven't gotten to it yet. Everyone is on Cap's floor at the gym."

You clucked in disappointment. "For shame. It looks like you're cleaned out of food, too."

"Huh, I guess we are. Here," He fished in his pocket before pulling out a debit card. "Your first task is to go grocery shopping. There is a f/car in the garage with the keys in it. Right now, there's about twenty thousand dollars in the account, and I'll add twenty thousand more each month to buy whatever you need for the tower. Feel free to spend whatever is left over on yourself."

_Isn't that a little much?_ You wondered, but didn't voice your concerns. Twenty thousand dollars probably seemed like pocket change to a multibillionaire.

"Sweet!" you cooed. "And I can get whatever I want!"

"Whatever floats your boat, sweet-cheeks." He replied absentmindedly, drifting towards the elevator. "Just ask Jarvis if you need anything."

You were positively buzzing from the prospect of your first 'mission', but your OCD compelled you to tidy first. After every Poptart crumb, wrapper, and box was gone, the dishes loaded in the dishwasher, and the fridge was emptied, you set off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't get it, f/car stands for favorite car. Let me know what you thought :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey *waves awkwardly* I'm really, really sorry about taking so long to update. My main account is on Fanfiction.net, so my stories here often get neglected. (Plus, school and my job have been keeping me plenty busy.) You guys are awesome, by the way. The fifty-one kudos have really made me feel special. I'll try to be better about updating, but I probably shouldn't make any promises. (Because Archive still hates my iPad fervently, and often decides to reload, so all my work before the last save is moot.) Here's the next chapter!

With Tony's card in hand, you made a bee-line for the nearest supermarket. It was already getting to be about six o'clock, and you wanted to make a decent impression on the team by cooking for them. Your mother always told you the way to anyone's heart was through their stomach- and you were an excellent chef. Perhaps a little _too_ good of a chef, if your weight struggles in high school were anything to judge by. It wasn't anything extreme- just enough to infuriate you into rarely shopping for clothes, as the stores you liked didn't ever really have things in your size. S.H.E.I.L.D. training had changed all of that, though. The three, hard years of physical conditioning and strict eating programs had whittled your figure down drastically, but your 'inner fat kid', as you called it, did occasionally make appearances. 

That's why, as soon as your reached the store, you all but sprinted to the healthiest form of sweet indulgence- dark chocolate. It was a dessert all initiates with a sweet tooth learned to like, as it was one of the few sweets the commanders condoned. Apparently, the antioxidants were _supposed_  to help with skin and reduce cardiovascular problems, at the time, you could've cared less. 

Your next stop was the fruit aisle. It was a staple in your diet, as it met both standards: healthy, but sweet. You placed a liberal amount of your favorites in the cart, as well as a dozen yogurts from the dairy section, and two gallons of milk. It was then time to stalk up on basic staples, so you could cook some-what without having to run to the store three times a day. Canned goods, pasta, rice, fresh veggies, leans meats, you name it, it was piled somewhere on the massive tower in the cart. You started towards the check out, but on second thought, veered toward the processed dessert/ pastry aisle. You stated at the jumbo sized Poptart boxes, silently reliving the horror of the kitchen earlier. 

Against your better judgement, you sweep several containers of each variety into your cart. Every set of eyes follow you as you shoved at the burdensome cart. Even you could imagine how comical you looked- a fairly slender girl behind a cart of food a family of five wouldn't eat in two weeks. No one would assume you were shopping for seven people, with four of them being male superheroes. 

Regardless, you could feel the cashier's incredulous stare burn into you. _"Really?_ " The unspoken question seemed to hang in the air, and if she hadn't been obligated to be polite, you were sure she would have screamed in frustration. The tedious process of paying for everything took over a half hour, and the bill totaled right around six hundred dollars. 

The cashier raised an eyebrow, silently challenging you _'So, how do you plan to pay for all of this?'_  

Raising your chin defiantly, and tucking a h/c tuft of hair behind your ear, you deftly handed swiped Tony's debit card. You had already memorized the PIN number, hastily scribbled on a sticky note before the billionaire had given you the card. The receipt printed smoothly,  and you smirked victoriously when the cashier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Her eyes shone enviously as she pushed the receipt for you to sign. 

You almost needed to cover your mouth to refrain from giggling. Printed in bold on the scrap of paper was the name 'Tony Stark.' 

After finally reloading your cart, you heard her mutter under her breath, "Must be one of his hook ups." 

Smiling cheekily, you called over your shoulder. "Nope! I'm his new assistant."  

* * *

It was one thing to _buy_ a bunch of food, but a whole other to transport it to the top of Stark Tower. You had left the f/(car) in the spot Tony had designated for it, only this time, taking the keys with you. It was relatively close to the entrance of the parking garage, and therefore close to the lobby.  

Arms loaded with groceries, you strained to speak loudly. "JARVIS, would you hold the elevator doors for me?" 

"Certainly." If you hadn't known better, you would have said the artificial intelligence sounded amused with your struggle. "I will keep them open until you are ready to go to the highest floor." 

"Thank you." You sighed gratefully. Your arms were burning as you deposited the sacks on the floor, and turned to gather another one. Instead of walking out of the elevator, as planned, you slammed into a solid wall of warm muscle, almost toppling backward. 

A set of equally muscular arms encircled your waist and caught you before you could hit the floor. They pulled you flush against a sturdy chest, and a being who towered over you in the height department. A hearty chuckle resonated from deep in his throat, compelling you to look up. His jawline was strong, and his chin was covered in a golden scruff. Clear, blue eyes peered kindly from underneath his thick eyebrows. His mouth was turned up in an amused smile, and his long, thick blonde hair seemed to dance around his shoulders. 

"Sorry!" You squeaked, still transfixed by this strangely familiar man. _He's too beautiful to be human_. You think wistfully. 

"No need to be sorry, my fair maiden. May I ask your name?" The outdated manor in which he spoke combined with his ethereal looks and leather clothing finally pushed the pieces of the puzzle together in your addled brain. 

"I'm y/n. I'm the new assistant to the Avengers. You must be Thor." Much to your surprise, you sounded fairly steady. 

"Indeed, Lady y/n. May I ask what task has been vexing you?" 

"Carrying in the groceries." You grin. "I was getting ready to cook, but discovered the kitchen had been cleaned out." 

"Excellent!" Thor guffawed. "I shall assist you, as lifting is a task that shouldn't be left to only a maiden as fair as yourself. A man should help her. What automatic mobile did you drive?" 

"The f/car towards the front." You reply promptly. Without waiting to see if it was even unlocked, the god of thunder bounded out the doors. All you could do for a few moments was simply stare at where Thor had been. _God of thunder? More like god of sex appeal._ You sighed mentally. For some reason, your internal commentary stirred at a faint, but relevant memory. You shrugged it off, hoping to remember what it was later; you were sure that if kept waiting much longer, Thor would rip the trunk off the cart in an attempt to open it.  

Much to your relief, the handsome blonde was waiting eagerly beside the trunk. Together, it took four more trips to extract the contents, (although, one of Thor's loads equalled about five of yours.) 

You glanced out the window as you rode in a comfortable silence. Night had really fallen, smothering the few stars that had dared to shiny earlier. It was only seven, but it was the middle of September, and fastly approaching the end of daylight savings time. 

The doors glided open almost inaudibly, and Thor tapped your shoulder before smiling apologetically. "I must depart to prepare for dining, Lady y/n." 

"You don't have to call me 'lady.' " You pointed out gently. "Here on Midguard, we generally call people by only their first names unless they are very important." 

"I know." He responded simply. With that, he stepped out and let the doors glide shut again.

 Shortly, you reached your destination. Moving the groceries to the kitchen was going to be a Herculean task. "I wish he'd stuck around a bit longer to help put these away." You grumbled, struggling with the burden of the bags. 

A small ding alerted you to the fact that the rest of your ingredients were now taking a joyride. "No, no, no!" You screeched, dashing back to the elevator, but it was too late; the doors had already shut. 

 _Thunk, thunk._ The soft sound out you lightly hitting you head against the wall seemed twice as loud in the silence. "I sure hope it's one of the team, and not just a random tenant who's left with my bags. " You moaned in despair.  

You trudged to press the button- and hopefully bring the elevator back up- but the doors opened to reveal two very confused men. One had the waist-to-shoulder-ratio of a Dorito, that is, broad, powerful shoulders emphasized strong, tapered waist. His cool blue eyes were warm, but not twinkling like Thor's were. His face could have been chiseled for a famous sculpture, and his pale blonde hair was neatly styled. He was easy to identify; he was obviously Steve Rogers, national icon and legendary soldier. 

The second man wasn't as easy to identify. He was lithe yet dangerous, like a leopard on the hunt. The corners of his mouth seemed to naturally turn down,  matching his ever-shifting icy stare. His slightly spiky hair was cropped short. A bow was slung over his shoulder, and a quiver full of arrows rested on his back. His outfit was plain, other than the small, purple insignia embroidered near his collar. You eventually decided that this must be Clint Barton, as you had met the other male avengers. 

"Who are you?" Clint demands bluntly. You resist the urge to cower. Everyone on the helicarrier used to laugh about how Hawkeye was such a trickster, but you quickly decided that they must only be rumors. His cool and calculating demeanor was intimidating. You had the suspicion that if he didn't like your answer. He could kill you before you could even flinch. 

Mentally shaking off the anxiety, you meet his gaze. "My name is y/n. I am Director Fury's niece, and the new assistant to Stark Tower, and subsequently, the Avengers." 

Steve shot a quizzically look at his friend. "Fury has a niece?" 

"Daughter of his favorite cousin." You modified. "I always called him uncle Fury while growing up."

The tension in Steve's shoulders visibly relaxed and Clint broke out into a grin, dropping his flinty demeanor. "That old bastard _has_ a heart, doesn't he!" Barton exclaimed. 

"I assume these are yours, then." Steve smiled kindly, gesturing to the horde of groceries at their feet. 

"Yes! I convinced Thor to help me get them from the car to the elevator, but he had to go get ready after that."  You responded sheepishly. "You guys had me seriously worried that I was going to have to go back to the store and haul this stuff up again." 

"May I ask, what are you planning to do with all this food?" Clint inquired playfully. 

"Cook stir-fry and fried rice." You shoot back. "If I could cajole you two gentlemen into getting these into the kitchen, so they don't take another ride, I'll make a dessert of your choice."  

They glanced at each other before nodding. "Deal." Clint smirked. 

"Thank you. Mr. Rogers, what would you like?" 

"Just call me Steve." He corrected. "Hmm, what about apple pie?" He asked hopefully. 

"Easy. " your reply. "If Tony has any liquid nitrogen on hand, I'll even make homemade ice cream. " 

They both shot you a curious look before you explained. "Normally, to make ice cream, you put your liquid mixture into a bag, then put it into another bag filled with ice, and shake for like forty-five minutes. A quick trick is put liquid nitrogen into the outside bag, because it cools way faster, so it only takes about two or three minutes." 

"Ah." Steve murmured and Clint simply muttered "Another science geek." 

"What about you, Legolas?" 

Clint glared for a second before responding "French chocolate silk pie." 

"Perfect! Now, let's get moving." Between the three of you, it was a matter of minutes everything was hauled in. 

"Pleasure doing business with you, boys." You gently shooed them into the living room. As they walked away, you could hear Clint muttering. "She calls you 'Mr. Rogers', but nicknames me after an elf. I swear, Tony's gotten to her already. You chuckle quietly and tie the strings of the apron. It was pink and frilly, patterned with little red lips and read "Kiss the cook". It had been one of those gag-gifts your best friend had gotten you for Valentine's day.   

Pulling out various pots and pans, you got the rice and meat started, while preheating the oven. You put things away you went, focusing primarily on the food. Apparently, you must have been entertaining, because Steve and Clint crowded at the edge of the kitchen. Tony joined shortly afterwards. 

The elevator opened again, although you paid it no mind. Heavy footsteps gave away the presence of someone else in the kitchen. "Lady y/n!" Thor yelled with delight. "You have bought a feast of the pop of tarts!" His strong arms easily swept you off your feet and into a bone-crushing bear hug. You gasped for air, and a pair of warm, yet unyielding lips landed on yours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this is for later in the story, but I modify the canon as it pleases me. I'll usually explain differences between my universe and the regular one (my story is mainly based on the cinematic universe, not the comic one. I don't read enough comics to keep up with that universe.) Also, since everyone's tastebuds are different and because I think having too many f/(anything) takes away from the story, I will pick out your taste in food for the most part. Anyways, sorry again for the wait, I hope this chapter was long enough to make up for it. Thank you for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the delay again, but I've been sicker and than a dog and burdened with way to many projects, cutting out most of my time for fanfics. Anyways, here's the next chapter!! :)

 

Almost as soon as it began, it was over with, yet the blonde Asguardian grinned widely, still easily supporting your weight with the one arm tucked around your waist. You fought to draw in a deep breath, and hopefully stop your head from spinning. 

"Thor!" Clint growled. 

"You just can't ramdomly kiss people, no matter how pretty they are." Steve chided sternly. 

"Oh my god." You muttered under your breath. The God of Thunder had just kissed you (and hot _damn_ , could he kiss), then Captain America had just called you pretty. This was by far the strangest day you've ever had.  

"Y/n, I know I am indeed a god, but Thor, as the midguardians call me, will work well enough. " He winked before continuing. "I am most deeply sorry if I have offended you, but your coving says 'kiss the cook', does it not?" He gestured to your apron, and you stifled a shaky laugh. 

"It's a-alright." You stuttered slightly. "It just took me by suprise, that's all. By the way, your beard really tickles. I hope I that Jane isn't going to come and kill me in my sleep for kissing her boyfriend, is she? 

His glowing smile dimmed for a moment as he answered thoughtfully. "Jane has, ah... As the earthling say, dumped me. Between my responsibilities to Asguard and this world, she felt that we did not spend enough time in each other's company to continue our relationship. She said it would be best if we saw other people." Your heart bled for him for a few moments, before once again his eyes were alight with a mischief that must run in his family. "Tickles, you said?" He lifted you higher, so he could nuzzle his scruffy jaw against your cheek and neck.

Squealing, you squirmed against his hold before he laughed and set you back on your feet. There were aches in your side from laughing so hard, and you were sure that you knees would give out at any second when the thought that had previously eluded you decided to surface. _In Norose mythology, Thor was also the God of fertility._

"You know, Point Break, it isn't appropriate to seduce the help just hours into their employment, either." Tony mocks, although it's directed towards you. Until his comment, you had almost forgotten that the billionaire was even there.  

Thor's thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like a perplexed, oversized puppy. "I have done no such thing." 

Tony laughed. "Please, look at the poor thing; she's shaking." 

"Am not!" You retorted. "I am just very ticklish, that's all. If you try to push this further, as some form of twisted revenge for this morning, I promise, you will either cook for your self, or you will eat nothing but boxed macaroni for a week. Do you understand?" You threatened.

 The genius threw your own mocking salute back in your face. "Yes, ma'am." 

"Good." Turning to Thor, you asked, "Sweetie, would you mind standing over there until I finish cooking?" 

"Anything for a maiden." He nodded respectfully before taking his place in the small crowd at the sidelines. With the God out of the way, you continued your dance around the kitchen, cutting, chopping, frying and whipping up dishes in your wake. Before long, most of the food had been finished, except for the ice cream. 

"Hey Stark!" You called over your shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have any liquid nitrogen around here, would you?" 

"There's some in the lab, but what on earth would you use liquid nitrogen in cooking for?" He questioned incredulously. 

"Ice cream. Now go get it for me." 

"Fine." He pouted and half- stomped off. 

"Fetch Dr. Banner, while you're at it, because the food'll be done any minute." 

Tony muttered something unintelligible while Clint growled and rolled his eyes in frustration. "Why are you so formal with everyone else but insist on  calling me by ridiculous monikers? You even give tin man over there the dignity of being called by his last name. " 

"Because it's fun, Merida." 

"Like I haven't heard that one before." Clint snorted. "I've hard every archer related nickname there is, thanks to Tony." 

You grinned wickedly. "Challenge accepted." 

"Hey!" He protested. "That wasn't a challenge, and I told you; I've heard them all." 

"I'm still going to try, Katniss." 

"I've heard that one, too." 

"Robin Hood?" 

"Yep." 

"Do I smell Chinese food?" A feminine voice asked in delight, as two women rounded the corner. Once had dark, silky auburn hair, the a glossy strawberry blonde, and they were both breathtakingly gorgeou. They were the kind of beauty that made every girl take a hit on her self esteem just by being in the same room, including yourself. 

"Which one of you boys learned to cook?" The blonde inquired curiously. 

Thor smiled broadly. "Tis not us, but this most lovely assistant, Lady y/n." With ease, he reached behind to scoop you off your feet with one arm, only to deposit you at the front of the small gathering. Somehow, you had the sneaking suspicion that these random rearrangements would become all too common.

"I'm Agent Romanoff," the redhead was the first to speak. "But you can call me Natasha." Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place in your mind _. The Black Widow._

"And I'm Pepper." The blonde brought you in for a short hug. "I'm Tony's secretary, assistant, and unofficial life manager. I just hope that he hasn't already made an ass out of himself while I've been at the gym." 

"Oh, he has." You laughed. "But everyone else has been exceedinfly _friendly_." You peered out the corner of your eye to see Thor, and Steve, surprisingly, flushing bright red. _He really is America's native, innocent sweetheart._

Everyone, excluding the blushing blondes, burst out into hysterical laughter, that was only made worse by the sight of Tony and a shy looking Bruce Banner pathetically shoving at a large metal tank. 

"Here's the nitrogen." Bruce wheezed between pants of air. 

"Can we have ice cream now?" Tony whined. 

"I have to make it first." you held up your hands in a gesture of surrender. "Would anyone like to hel-" A loud crash from the roof interrupted you, accompanied by someone's furious shout of "DAMN IT! Stark! The landing gear malfunctioned agin." 

You quickly realized that, in your fright, you had unconciously latched onto Steve's arm. Smiling a touch, although a heavy dusting of pink still covered his cheeks, he patted your arm as you reluctantly let go. 

Someone else's sarcastic chuckle drew your attention else wear. Your head snapped to the living room where a stranger in a leather jacket and dark jeans leaned against the gram of your now-open balcony door. From the metallic glint of his fingers, hooked into his belt loop, there was no denying who her was, but it was impossible for you to coincide the two images. You were expecting him- if you even met him at all, to be a quiet, broken soul; a dead mqn brought back. Never in a million years did you expect him to be all confidence and swagger, just oozing charisma. He eminated power, challenging the world to give him everything it had with the dangerous, _devious_ smirk that played on his lips.  

"Who is this?" He asked, stalking forward until he loomed over you at Steve's side. With a careful and feather like touch, he gently tilted your head up, his cool metal fingers cupping your cheek, so you had no choice but to state into his eyes. Unlike Thor or Steve, his blue depths were tinged with sea green, and flecked with stormy grey, as sifting and tumulus as the ocean itself. 

"Such a pretty thing." He murmured. Looking at Steve from under his eyelashes, he asked- no, _demanded_. "Where'd you get her from?" 

"I didn't _get her_ from anywhere!" Steve protested while Tony chipped in. 

"She's Fury's niece and our new assistant." 

"Hm," He responded lazily, releasing your jaw and leaning in just a little more, so you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

Two calloused, chocolate colored hand encircled your forearms, and gently pulled you back. "Knock it off, Barnes! Can't you see she's gonna have a heart attack?" 

With embarrassment, you realized that your heart was hammering, and your labored breaths were boarder line hyperventilating. 

"Oh, Dove." The words rolled off of the Winter Soldier's tongue smoothly. "I was only teasing you." 

You took a step back, and bumped into yet another well-muscled chest. Your eyes followed the trail  of small pink scars upwards, stemming from the hand still gripping your wrist, until you found a sympethetic face. 

"I know it must be hard to take in all at once," 

You nodded, but shortly caught sight of what trailed behind him. A battered and mangled, metal wing hung crookedly from his side, scraping the ground. _Falcon_. Your thoughts whispered. 

Suddenly, it was all too much. You had been expecteding to meet only the avengers, spaced out and separately, but these last two meetings and unexpected guests had sent your mind into overdrive. If there was only one thing you knew, your mind could only fly at a million miles a minute for so long before it crashed, which was exactly what it did. 

You did no feel dizzy, or even light headed. The world did not spin, but the floor simply rose up to meet you, and things were black. The last thing you could hear was Pepper shouting "What did you do?" and Natasha hissing "Idiots." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok everyone... IM SOOOO SORRY!!! I'm super sorry I've taken this long, but I do have some good reasons, if you'll listen. My hard drive crashed. I lost 30,000 words worth of work on various stories. I was so furious I couldn't even try to write for two and a half months. Then, my grandmother fractured her clavicle and cracked her pelvis, then I was nominated to a state office for a team I'm on, and finally, I just passed my driver's test a week ago, so I've been studying for that. Thank you, to everyone who's waited it out. I promise that, no matter how long it takes, I will finish this story at some point. Thank you again, I hope you can forgive me. I'll try to have the next chapter out in reasonable time, but no promises.

"Y/n?" Steve's voice wavered and broke slightly at the end.

"Shit!" Bucky swore. "I promise I was just trying to get under Steve's skin. I didn't think she'd _faint_." He knelt over you and pressed his fingers against your neck, chin length locks dangling in his face. "Her pulse seems steady." 

Looking a little green around the gills, Bruce shooed both of the super humans away, growling. "Give her some room to breathe!"  

Ignoring the doctor, everyone proceeded to crowd around you, while he glowered from a respectable distance.

"Frosty, I can't believe your flirting was so rusty that she actually _passed out."_ Tony snickered. 

"I think it was more like I was so good, she couldnt help _falling_ for me." Bucky countered, and Sam high-fived him. 

"Nice one!" Clint nodded in approval. 

"Guys!" Natasha growled. "Now is not the time." 

"Poor thing." Pepper murmured sympathetically. "I hope she doesn't want to leave. 

* * *

 Plush carpet tickled your skin gently, and a quiet murmur buzzed at the back of your mind. Warm air swirled past you, carrying an exotic scent with it; fine whiskey, pine needles and Axe soap drifted along with the gentle current. Unconsciously, you inhaled deeper, trying to catch more of the intoxicating fragrance. Light warmed your face, slowly bringing you out of unconsciousness.

"I think she's coming around!" A vaguely familiar voice whispered excitedly but you paid it no mind. Something else had caught your attention, something that smelled like it was... burning.  Tentatively, you cracked open one e/c eye, to be met with both of the super soldiers' hypnotic gazes mere inches from your own. You reacted as any normal, sane human girl would.

"EEEK!!" In an embarrassed panic, you frantically scooted backwards, where two steady grips hauled you to your feet. Pepper and Natasha glared frostily at the group of boys.

"I think you _are_ trying to give her a heart attack!" Pepper accused, while Natasha folded her arms angrily.

"Don't scare this one off already. Jane never comes by anymore, Darcy all but lives in Asgard, and almost no one from S.H.I.E.L.D. visits anymore." Natasha growled. "It's two against like five! "

She continued ranting about how overly-masculine the team was, but the smell of burning food was becoming stronger by the second.

"My pie!" you squealed, and darted into the kitchen.

 "No, worries, fair maiden!" Thor chuckled, and reached into the oven, (with his _bare hands_.)

"DON'T! That's... hot." You trailed off in dismay as Thor, seemingly unaffected, set the boiling hot apple pie atop the stove, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Do not fret, the pastry isn't charred. Some of the filling had over flowed and caught aflame at the bottom of the oven." He reassured with a smile.

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed. "Thank you, Thor."

In exasperation and awe, you turned to Bruce, searching for a reasonable explanation, but the doctor merely shrugged. "Asguardian skin is much more durable than human skin. I would guess it'd have to be seven or eight hundred degrees Fahrenheit before anything could do too much damage."

What felt like heavy iron bar drapped itself across your shoulders, and you turned to see Bucky, snickering, while still grinning deviously. "I give my sincerest apologies, doll face. I wouldn't have pegged you to be a fainter; a screamer maybe, but definately not one to just pass out. You don't have hysteria, do you?" The soldier paused expectantly, as if waiting for a gasp or laughter, but when he recieved no response, he continued. "Anyway, how about I make it up to you?" He winked saucily. "I could help you out with something. Why don't we _fondue_? 'Cause I tell ya," he paused to wiggle his fingers, metallic or otherwise. "These hands are _magic_." Bucky trailed off, equal parts flirty and taunting. 

You could tell that much of it was meant to be funny, but most of the humor was lost. You had no idea fondue was supposed to mean, nor hysteria, but judging from Steve's beet-red face and utterly debauched expression, they must have been truly obscene in the forties. 

You searched the room, pleading for answers written in someone's expression, but the room had gone silent, and blank faces watched intently. 

"But there's a perfectly good stir-fry right here!" You blurted in panic. 

As if on a que at some cheesy gameshow, everyone busted up into uncontrollable laughter. 

"Okay, whatever it is, spill!" You demanded. 

Eventually, Clint managed to wheeze. "Not now. We'll have to find time to do the story justice." 

Unsatisfied, but content with a promise, you stepped out of Bucky's loose embrace to study the nitrogen tank. 

"You really want to make it up to me? Wheel that tank into the kitchen." 

"Will do, babe-doll. " The former assasin managed choke down the last of his sniggers to respond. 

Taking a deep breath, you poured the cream mixture into bags, sealed and placed them in larger bags, then added rock salt and nitrogen to the second bag, before sealing them all and handing them to Bucky. "Shake." You ordered quietly. 

Smirking again, he whipped his long tresses side to side, and peered at you mischievously. 

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, "Looks like we've got ourselves a smart ass." Out loud, you clarified. "Shake the bag." 

Laughing a little, Bucky obliged, and before long, the icecream was ready, and the rest of the meal was picture perfect, if you could say so yourself. "Bon appetite, everyone, serve yourselves."

In an instant, everyone had crowded into the kitchen, pushing and shoving to get to prime dishes. As you went to go get your plate, you couldn't help but sigh. "... And I'm supposed to be the annoying one."    


	6. Chapter 6

After everyone had finished eating, they predictably bolted, each having to continue on their very busy schedules. AKA, they needed to go and watch their favorite TV shows, leaving you alone in the kitchen to clean. Not that you minded particularly; with a dull sense of horror, you remembered the atrocity that was inflicted before you had arrived, and continued to scrub the dishes. The stir fry was a huge success, much to your delight, even if it was a pain to cook all of the side dishes that accompanied it.

You faintly heard a 'ding', but paid it no mind. It was probably just another member of the team, already looking for a snack. Much to your surprise, no one entered. Suddenly, a cool breeze stirred your hair, and if your eyes weren't playing tricks on you, a faint blur of blue flashed near the corner of your eye.

"Food!" An unfamiliar voice cried in delight, his rich accent rolling the syllables exotically.  

"Brother, where are your manners?" Another accented voice, only feminine, responded with obvious amusement. "You should introduce yourself before you devour this woman's hard work."

"Wanda!" Natasha squealed from the living room, followed shortly by Pepper, who dashed to where a woman with dark hair, a black skater dress and red leather jacket stood in the doorframe.

"You're back! How did the mission go?" Pepper smiled broadly, and shortly, each of the avengers filed in from the living room to greet the new arrivals.

"What am I, chopped liver?" This time, you knew you weren't seeing things as another blur breezed by. When it stilled, a very handsome, lean man was crossing his arms and pouting. Although it was dark at the roots, his hair was dyed a platinum blond, and had ample dark stubble on his jaw. He wore a silver muscle shirt and athletic pants, with bright blue sneakers. What was most striking about him, however, was his piercing, electric blue eyes that seemed to stare straight through you.

He was _gorgeous_.

 _'Damn it,'_ you thought. _'Do they all have to be perfect tens? Can't there be at least ONE average looking superhero? Or is it a job requirement to be smoking hot?'_

Suddenly, the woman named Wanda winced very noticeably, and whipped around to face you, cringing all the while. "You." She scrunched her nose. "Don't think so loudly. I do not wish to be in on your thoughts." She reprimanded. _'Or at least, try not to check out my brother in such detail.'_ Her voice echoed in your mind, but much to your relief, wasn't spoken aloud.

 However, the blond must have known what his sibling was thinking, because he promptly pulled a smug, self-satisfied smirk. "You like what you see, no?" At the sound of his voice, you broke out into a flush that would have put Steve to shame earlier, and he took this as an opportunity to continue. "I do not mind the attention of such a pretty lady. Look all you want, it bothers me none. My twin is, as you say, a stick in the mud. I am Pietro." He finished devilishly.

"Hold it, Speedy Gonzales, it's the girl's first day here. She probably has no clue who you two are." Tony, (for once) defended you. "Y/N, meet the Maximoff twins. The lady in red is Scarlet Witch, and the idiot who was trying to flirt with you is Quicksilver. Twins, this is Y/N, she is our official assistant. Please, try not to traumatize her. She's already fainted once. " The billionaire managed to fit in a jab, much to your dismay. 

"Faint? No worry, I would-" Pietro disappeared for less than a millisecond, only to scoop you off your feet with ease. "-catch you before you ever came close to the ground." 

Bucky chuckled "Get in line." While Wanda promptly smacked her brother upside the head. "Stop. You're worse than she is. Set her down. And, 'you turn me max-m- _on_ ' is _never_ an acceptable pick up line. Now shoo." Pietro, although reluctantly, set you back on your feet as Wanda pulled him by his ear into the kitchen.

"You just ruined another opportunity! I spent forever thinking of that line, and you won't let me use it." He whined. 

"That is because it is a horrible line." She growled. 

"Help yourselves to whatever's left of the stir fry, or anything in the fridge. I'm going to the gym." You called to them, escaping to the elevator. Unfortunately, you bumped into yet another person, an all-too-common occurrence. He felt unnaturally sturdy, and you glanced upwards, to realize his skin was lobster red. 

"There's _more_ of you?" You sighed in frustration.

The newcomer at least had the decency to look apologetic. "I am Vision, but you appear flustered. We can have proper introductions later. " He nodded and stepped out of your way, for which you were extremely greatful. 

"I'll be right there, dove!" Bucky teased as you left. "I just need to go get changed." 

He was meet with an outcry of challenge from Pietro, who taunted, "Not if I get there first, which I will." 

Natasha could barely hold her laughter. "Boys, boys, you're both very pretty. I'm sure she thinks you're both quite the catch. Give her a few minutes to get a hold of herself. I bet she's going to go hyperventilate in the bathroom because you were blatantly hitting on her. It's very attractive." Natasha's dripping sarcasm made you giggle a little, and you thought to yourself, _'You might not be so far off, Nat.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another side note, to remind everyone, I bend the cinematic universe as it suits me, SO PIETRO DIDN'T DIE! God, when I first saw AoU, all I could do was frantically look up theories as to how he could be alive, and mentally shoot myself, because in his 30 minutes of screen time, I developed a huge crush on the speedster. So, both he and all new avengers will eventually be included.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick key, y/n means your name, e/c means eye color and h/c mean hair color. If I use any other ones, I'll explain their meaning in a note.


End file.
